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sex!
Hi, I'm Genevieve. I work at a phone sex chatline. I monitor for "quality" and kick off people who are too dirty. Because there is a line. I enforce it.

Dirty people call in. Some aren't as dirty as others. These are their stories...




2002:March:21
I am standing in my towel, my hair dripping flat notes on the hardwood floor. We are watching each other. I am clutching my toiletries to my chest, ready to bring them back to my apartment. Ready to thank him for the use of his shower. Ready to leave and blow dry my hair. I walk over to where he lies on the couch. I bend down to kiss his cheek but he is ahead of me, hands on my either side of my face he guides my mouth to his. Soft deep kisses, sliding tongues, teething clicking. He smells like sleep. His eyes are shut tight. The toiletries are on the floor, my towel is opened, his hands grabbing my ass, squeezing it. He moves his face into my chest and bites my breast. More kissing, licking and squeezing we are naked. I am confused.

He wraps my legs around him and stands up, carrying me to the bedroom, gently laying my down on the bed. On my back. Under him. Hands, lips.
Umm...

"I missed you, God, I missed you.." he is breathlessly telling me things that sound foreign-that I don't believe. He is deep inside me. For once, it hurts. I don't' know why I am here. I keep asking myself but myself keeps telling me to shut up. To stop ruining things. I know what this means. I know it means nothing. I know he will say.

"I couldn't resist you."

This makes it less delicious. This makes it less fun. I realize I only liked sex with him when I was in love with him. Am I not in love with him anymore? How can I be? I feel cold and heartless. Like a hooker, prostituting myself for love. Love I don't' even want anymore. Love that's not even worth it. Like a ten dollar blow job. Shutting my eyes tight.
Being somewhere else.

He goes soft and I wonder if he came because if I did I didn't notice. But he didn't. He has a lot on his mind, he's sorry. I say he should just come out with it then, rolling off of him and onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Waiting to hear it. The same thing he always says. He says it. I try to keep from scoffing. But come on, it feels like such a crock of shit. I wait for him to stop saying what he always says so I can say what I always say. It's irrelevant. It doesn't matter anymore.

The reasons you are not perfect:

1. You cry too much (too vulnerable)
2. You love to much
3. You are too intense
4. You are not showing your strength
5. You are 24

But there is nothing wrong with you. No, it's just that you're not perfect.
If you were perfect there would be no problem, but you understand, right?

I am thinking I am done. That this is the last straw. Him assuming the position. Like it's been held. Indefinitely for his return.


›post #23
›bio: genevieve
›perma-link
›3/21/2002
›22:33

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